Please be Mine
by Allanna Stone
Summary: Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?
1. Chapter 1

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

Javert scowled as he passed the bridge for the dozenth time that night. Oh how he wanted to go home and sleep, but as an officer of France, he knew that wouldn't be possible until that idiot who was supposed to relieve him arrived.

He heaved a sigh and looked at his pocket watch, frowning when he saw that it was two hours past midnight. He groaned as he brought his horse to a stop at the bridge. Maybe he could take a rest under the bridge. True, it wouldn't be comfortable, but a little sleep was better than no sleep at all.

As he neared the banks of the river that flowed under the bridge, he thought he heard something. But when he listened, all he heard was the quiet rustling of the trees and the lapping of the river. He shrugged it off, blaming his imagination.

He stopped in his tracks when he came to the underside of the bridge.

There was a basket filled with what looked like rags sitting near the waters.

The inspector stepped closer to the basket, peeking inside to see what was squirming inside. He saw a tuff of what looked like hair as he picked up the basket and brought it out into the moonlight for a closer look.

It was a small infant, no more than four months old at the most. She had a tuff of dark curls on her head and her eyes were shut as she slumbered. Her blankets were tattered and tin, telling the man that she came from a poor family.

The inspector didn't know what came over him as he picked the child from the basket and bundled her into his waistcoat, sharing his body warmth as he swung himself up onto his horse. He kept looking down at the child, who was sound asleep, checking to be sure that she was alright.

_What am I doing? I shouldn't care about this street urchin_, he thought as he found himself in front of his house. He cursed his fatherly instincts- he'd had a son once, but he died a long time ago, along with his wife. As he rode into the courtyard, the horse hustler came out of the stables to take his master's horse.

"Tell the cook that I have a guest," Javert informed the other stable boy curtly, who darted off to do his bidding. Javert hurried inside, where he was greeted with warmth and holiday cheer, even though he really didn't care for Christmas. But he ran a respectable household, one in which he treated everyone equally, no matter what their station in life was.

Javert entered the kitchen, where the cook was already making a meal for the hungry man and his "guest".

"Ah, monsieur! Where is your guest?" asked the cheerful cook, turning to greet her employer. Her motherly face dropped when she saw the little bundle in her master's jacket. "Oh heaven! What have you there? Where did you find her?" she demanded to know, taking the child from him and beginning to inspect her, checking for illness or injury. Javert quickly filled the cook in about how he came across the child, and by the time he had finished, she had woken up and was taking in everything around her with a curious eye. The cook had also changed her diaper, using one of her son's diapers until she could get some more cloth napkins. She had confirmed the inspector's suspicion that the child was a little girl.

"Her gums are healthy - she should be teething in a couple of months - she is undernourished and underweighted, but we can fix that up. Her eyes and nose are clear and her skin is clear as well," muttered the cook, taking the child and bouncing her in her arms as she fixed a bottle that had originally been planned for her son, but he was being weaned of milk, and the cook was planning on putting him on solid food that night. When Javert's son and wife died, he couldn't bear to rid his estate of any of his child's things, so he kept his house looking as it did when the mistress and young master were alive. Now Javert was happy to know that he had plenty of things to care for the little girl. "What are you going to do with her?"

"Raise her as my own," stated Javert. "The Lord sent me a gift and I am not tossing it away unwanted."

The cook looked at him firmly before handing over the infant and bottle so she could attend his meal. "I sure hope you know what you're doing!" she grumbled good heartily before standing over the giant pot of stew and beginning to add spices to it.

Javert frowned at the cook before muttering loudly, "I have enough people in the household to help care for this child. It will give everyone some entertainment."

To which the cook replied with a loud sniff, "Sure. At two in the morning when she cries to be fed and to have her diaper changed."

Javert smiled down at the little girl as she greedily sucked at the bottle, her eyes shut in bliss. He chuckled as he thought of a name for her.

"Patricia," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**The song in this chappie is **_**What Child is This**_** sung by Jackie Evancho.**

**Javert is Norm Lewis in this FanFic. Don't like him? TOO BAD! He is my all time favorite Javert.**

_**SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER…**_

Patricia smiled as she stepped from her room. She was a stunningly breathtaking child with long dark red curls that she always wore in a braided coil, sparkling blue-green eyes, and a slender, petite figure with an hourglass shaped waist. Today, she wore a blue and wine colored dress that she loved dearly. It was made of the softest wool with velvet paneling on the front of the skirt, white sleeves that were gathered at the elbows and wrists, and a bodice with a high neck. She darted downstairs after checking for servants, ducking back into her room to grab a bulging bag.

Patria, as the girl went by, crept to the front parlor, where a giant tree was placed, glittering with orbs and dripping with crystal icicles. Chains made of gay paper were strung around the tree, which smelled like pine and gave the normally stuffy room a more relaxed feel.

She began to pull present after present from her bag and placed them carefully under the tree, pausing every now and then to listen for her father's footsteps. Satisfied that he was still asleep, she pulled the last box from her bag and placed it behind the tree so that her father wouldn't be able to guess what she had gotten him.

She smiled to herself as she stood with her bag in hand and turned to leave the room but froze as her eyes landed on the figure on the couch.

"Papa," she squeaked as she fell from shock. Javert was on his feet before she hit the floor and knelt next to his daughter, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and worry.

"Are you alright?" he asked her as she began to giggle.

"Just think, I snuck down here for nothing!" she chortled, flinging her arms around the dark skinned police inspector. "How long were you watching me?"

"Long enough to know that you were up to something," smiled Javert, wrapping his arms around Patria and holding her close to him. "Did you go shopping for each one of the servants this year?"

"Maybe," Patria ducked her head as she scrambled back up onto her feet. "Well, this saves me the trouble of writing you a note, but I was planning on going out this morning to run some last minute errands for the holiday party that's coming up."

Javert groaned loudly. "Don't remind me about that dratted party!" he whined in a childlike manner. His hatred for social functions was well known and his daughter often teased him about it.

Patria planted her hands onto her hips as she glowered at him. "Papa, your parties are never that bad," she matched his tone with an equally dramatic whine, making the inspector chuckle as he stood with a quiet groan.

"Very well then love, go and run your errands," he told her, kissing her forehead as she darted to the coatroom to grab her cloak and muff. About ten minutes later, she was walking down the streets of France, singing a Christmas tune.

"_What child is this  
Who lay to rest  
On Mary's lap is sleeping  
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet  
While shepherds watch are keeping  
This, this is Christ the King  
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing  
Haste, haste to bring him laud  
The Babe, the Son of Mary  
So bring him incense, gold and myrrh  
Come peasant king to own him  
The King of Kings salvation brings  
Let loving hearts enthrone him  
This, this is Christ the King  
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing  
Haste, haste to bring him laud  
The Babe, the Son of Mary  
This, this is Christ the King  
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing  
Haste, haste to bring him laud  
The Babe, the Son of Mary"_

As Patria sang, she failed to notice the clouds overhead until fat, wet snowflakes began to fall onto her head. She yelped loudly before darting into a café to escape the weather.

"Snow," she muttered, stamping her feet to keep warm. "I like it when it's on the ground, but when it's snowing…" She shuddered heavily, turning to retreat into the warmth of the café, which she saw was occupied by several students from the university. They looked to be in the middle of a meeting of some sort, but when she had barged into the café in search of shelter, everyone turned their attention onto her and were watching as she stood there awkwardly.

"It's snowing out there," she announced lamely before going to stand next to the blazing hot fire. Within thirty seconds, she was warm enough to shed her cloak and muff and to ask the bar tender for some cider. She quickly paid him before going into a corner to nurse her drink and wait for the now furious snow storm to be over.

"By God! It's a proper girl!" shouted one of the students with a drunk grin. Patria only glared at him as she carefully sipped her drink.

"Shut up Grantaire, you drunk idiot," snapped the leader, a handsome lad in his late teen or early twenties, also glaring at the drunk man. He turned to Patria and smiled his apology at her. "I must apologize for Grantaire's behavior, mademoiselle…"

"Patria," she smiled up at him, blushing when everyone snapped their attention over to her.

"You're named for the motherland?" asked another handsome lad, this one with shoulder length strawberry blonde hair.

Patria blushed as she explained weakly that it was a nickname that her father gave her when she was young.

Grantaire took another drink of his bottle before wobbling over to sit next to Patria.

"Well, you're too pretty to be Enjolras's girl," he slurred. "How about if you give old Grantaire a chance at love, hmm?" Patria promptly punched him in the jaw, shocking him more than actually hurting him- he fell out of his chair and onto the floor as Patria stood and grabbed her now dried things.

"You should know better then to talk to a respectful young lady like that!" she sniffed, feeling tears burning at her eyes. "Didn't you mother teach you manners?"

And with that, she swept out into the snow, leaving all the men in the café stunned at the fiery tempered lass.

Top of Form


	3. Chapter 3

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Patria is Patricia's nickname. I got a few messages expressing confusion over this little tidbit of information.**

When Patria arrived home, she found her father was getting ready to go out.

"There you are! I thought that I would have to search all over France to find you!" cried Javert, dropping his coat and hugging his daughter.

"I'm fine, papa," Patria assured her father before wriggling free of his embrace and scampering upstairs to wrap the last few presents that she had bought on her way home from the café.

She had half a mind to tell her father about what had happened, but decided against it. What good would it do her to make trouble for some university boys who she would never see again?

~xoXox~

Later that week, Patria was out in the gardens, bundled up for the chilly evening as she stretched her legs. As she ambled along the pathway, she thought she heard something on the other side of the gates. But when she peered into the darkness, she didn't see anything.

"It must be my imagination," she muttered before tuning from the gates and heading back towards the house. But then, she saw someone standing next to the giant tree that she would often climb to read in. She stepped closer, holding her lantern up higher so that she could see who it was.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle."

Patria gasped and almost dropped the lantern as the leader of the café club crept out from the shadows. He smiled at her as she gaped at him.

Finally, she found her voice once more.

"What do you think you're doing here? Are you trying to get arrested for trespassing? If my father sees you, then he'll have you arrested just for-" whispered Patria furiously before he chuckled deep from within his chest.

"Calm down- no one will see me." Patria hated to admit it, but he was right. From the angle that the tree was positioned, no one looking from that house would be able to see them. "I came by to apologize for Grantaire's behavior the other day."

"Is he always like that, though?" asked Patria dryly.

"Unfortunately, he is, yes," muttered the man, coming out from the shadows fully, giving Patria a better look at him.

The first thought that entered her mind was, _Oh my… he is handsome…_

And that he was. He was tall and well built, with black hair that flopped over one dark brown eye and was tussled to the point that she wanted to run her hands through his hair. He towered at least a foot and a half over her; her head came up to his ribcage (from what she could tell). He wore a heavy jacket over what looked like a nice suit and he also carried a stack of books, leaving Patria to believe that he had just came from the university or the café.

"I'm Enjolras," he introduced himself with a low bow.

"Patria," she answered sweetly, curtsying to him. When she came back up, he took her fingers into his (quite large) hand and bowed over them, kissing them gently.

"You mentioned that was a nickname," he informed her with a small smile as she sat down on a stone bench.

She giggled nervously before answering him.

"When I was younger, I couldn't spell Patricia right, and I always added and left out the proper letters. So when papa would tell me stories about France, he refered to the country as being a motherland, and I never understood that. Once day, I was looking through one of Papa's books when I came across what I thought was my name, so I copied it down and started using it on my schoolwork. It wasn't until a few weeks before my sixth birthday was I able to spell Patricia right, however, the nickname always stuck."

She noticed that she was rambling and clamped her mouth shut, looking away as she heard his quiet chuckle.

"That is a lovely story," he told her, making her blush a deep red.

Suddenly, she heard her father calling for her.

"I must go- papa is calling for me." She stood up, brushing the snow off her dress and cloak before turning to run towards her papa's voice.

When she turned around, she saw Enjolras climbing up the tree and vanishing over the walls of the garden.


	4. Chapter 4

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**The song is this chappie is called **_**O Little Town of Bethlehem**_**,****sung by Jackie Evancho.**

The following day was Christmas Eve, and Patria was busy with getting ready for the party that her father (reluctantly) threw every year for his friends and their family. Patria had always enjoyed these parties, for they meant socialization, which was something that her father avoided at any cost.

(Patria knew that as a part of Inspector Javert's job, he was supposed to "kiss up" to the rich aristocrats of Paris to get them on his side. And so to do this, he would throw a once-a-year party.)

Patricia smiled as she glided down the stairs. Tonight, she wore a stunning scarlet gown with white tiered paneling, black button up boots and white silk opera gloves. She wore her hair in its usual coiled braid, and her neck was bare of jewelry.

As she came down the last step, she found herself smiling at her father's guests before she was taken aside by a plump woman in a pink dress.

"Patricia, child, do you know where your father is?" she asked in a low voice.

"You mean he isn't here? In this room, I mean?" asked the young woman in surprise. Her papa normally made an appearance before she came out.

"No, he isn't in this room," the woman in pink told Patria in a soft voice.

"Well, he did have to work today and I don't think I saw him today," whispered Patria. Normally, her father would knock on her bedroom door and announce that he was home before going to change into more comfortable clothes. He _**HATED**_ his uniform.

"I can go and check with the cook- she knows who entered the house and where they are," Patria muttered more to herself then to anyone else before the front door opened.

"Speak of the devil," Patria muttered before turning to see her father, covered in snow, and looking absolutely mortified at his entrance.

"I'm sorry that I'm late, but there was a robbery and I gave chase to the thief," he explained before heading upstairs to change into more festive attire.

Patria turned to the duchess in pink.

"I found him!" she informed her, causing for the woman to begin giggling.

~xoXox~

A few hours later, Patria excused herself from a young man who was going on and on about his college classes. She tossed on her red velvet cloak and grabbed her muff before sneaking out to the garden.

"Now, I'm starting to understand why Papa hates these parties," she muttered loudly as she headed towards her reading tree. When she reached it, she took one hand out of her muff and rested it against the tree trunk. She smiled as she heard the church choir beginning to sing one of her favorite holiday songs. Patria found herself humming the song before she relized what she was doing. After casting an eye around for anyone from the party who might've wandered outside to get some fresh air, Patria opened her mouth and began to sing.

"_O little town of Bethlehem  
How still we see thee lie  
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep  
The silent stars go by  
Yet in thy dark streets shineth  
The everlasting Light  
The hopes and fears of all the years  
Are met in thee tonight  
For Christ is born of Mary  
And gathered all above  
While mortals sleep, the angels keep  
Their watch of wondering love  
O morning stars together  
Proclaim the holy birth  
And praises sing to God our King  
And Peace to men on earth  
O holy Child of Bethlehem  
Descend to us, we pray  
Cast out our sin and enter in  
Be born to us today  
We hear the Christmas angels  
The great glad tidings tell  
O come to us, abide with us  
Our Lord Emmanuel"_

She finished the song before tracing the stone steps that led around her rose garden with her toe. She hummed along with the church choir as she jumped from one stone to the other in an unladylike fashion, giggling softly as her boots crunched in the snow. When she reached the door to her home once more, she entered without looking back

She didn't notice Enjolras on the other side of the gate, watching her as she went back into the house.


	5. Chapter 5

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

Patria smiled as she pounced on her slumbering papa. She shook him until he woke, yawning as she placed her face right up next to his.

"Patricia Elizabeth…" he growled as she danced around the room, flinging open the curtains.

"Wake up, Papa! It's Christmas morning!" the seventeen year old child shrieked, jumping into bed with him and practically yanking all the covers off of him to warm herself. Javert noticed that she must've left her room in a hurry, for she wasn't wearing her dressing robe, only her soft wool nightgown.

"Alright- I'm up!" he groaned, swinging his feet out of bed and grabbing his own robe. "Go downstairs and see if Cook is up- I need coffee."

Patricia darted out of his room with his blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. Javert shook his head at his daughter's playfulness as he quickly dressed himself. Once he had his waistcoat settled and his cravat around his neck, he went downstairs to see if Patricia had calmed down any. To his amusement, she was eating a rather heartly breakfast of eggs, toast and hash browns and had just finished pouring herself a glass of juice.

"_**PAPA!**_" she squealed when he appeared. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her arms around him, giggling as he made a face. Cook smiled sympathetically at her employer before handing him a plate of breakfast.

"I'd best hurry up if I were you, sir. The sooner those presents are open, the sooner she will calm down," winked Cook (who Patria had named because there had been three cooks in the kitchen and all their names were Roberta, to her amusement).

As soon as they were finished with their meal, Patria bounded into the living room and began to hand out her presents to the servants.

"Oh, you shouldn't have…" protested one woman as she was handed a bulky package that turned out to contain two baby blankets for her newborn twins.

"I'm the mistress of the house, and if I say you're getting presents on Christmas, then you're getting presents on Christmas!" Patricia saved her father's present for last before plopping herself down and beginning to tear into her own pile of presents.

Javert chuckled as he watched his daughter open her presents. There was one that he had just added last night when he was certain that she was sound asleep. He watched with joy as she squealed over hair combs, a new brush and mirror, candy and sweets, a new pair of dancing slippers, an inkwell with peacock blue ink, a dozen quills with nubs, and a stack of parchment paper.

He turned his attention to his own stack, with consisted of a knitted saddle, a new scarf in blue and green (his favorite colors), a new riding crop (heavens knows how he keeps losing them), and an embroidered dress jacket. Javert turned his attention to Patria, who had just noticed the last present lingering at the back of the tree, which Javert had wrapped in the kitchen a few minutes ago and placed under the tree before Patria came into the parlor. She picked it up and opened it.

"Oh, Papa!" she cried as she reached in and came up with two little kittens.

"There was a man who was going to drown them," he explained. "I told him that I would take them. The look on his face…" He chuckled as he recalled the man's stunned look.

Patria smiled as she gently placed the two kittens down and launched herself at Javert, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

Patria smiled as she stepped out of her home with her father on her arm. Today, she was dressed in a turquoise dress with a white winter coat over the short sleeved dress, white walking boots and a muff. Her satchel swung on her shoulders as she gazed about the snow covered city with glee.

"Oh!" Patria gasped when she spied a family of snow people. She tugged herself free of her father's arms and scampered over to admire them. She saw a small cluster of children who must've made the family, who were dressed in rags and trying to collect tips for their fine collection.

Patria reached into her bag and came up with five sous for each child. She then went with them to the bakery so that they could each get something to eat (Patria also went with them to make sure that they weren't kicked out of the warm bakery).

"Merci!" called out the children after they left the bakery and scampered back to their perch to collect money.

Javert watched all this with a mixture of feelings. He knew that the little girl could've been his daughter, had he not stepped in and taken her home over seventeen years ago. But he still couldn't suppress the disgust at the street urchin. He himself was born in the gutters like him, and he had climbed his way up to the top. If he could do it, why not them?

Patria soon came back with a small smile on her face, and the two continued their walk through the snow covered streets of Paris. Javert couldn't help but notice how kind his daughter was being to everyone, no matter what their position in life was, whether it be a poor begger man or a rich aristocrat. He was truly proud to call Patricia his daughter.

Soon, they reached the park, where once more, his daughter tugged herself free and began to walk ahead of him. The inspector sat down on a bench with a heavy sight. Oh how his joints were hurting him!

~xoXox~

Patria was walking around, minding her own business when suddenly a snowball smacked her in the back. She yelped loudly before spinning around with the intention of giving the snowball launcher a good piece of her mind. Her face softened when she saw that it was only a child, who looked ready to start crying.

"Don't cry, I'm not hurt," murmured Patria softly, dropping to her knees and hugging the six year old girl.

"Alessandra!"

Patria looked up and blushed as Enjolras came racing around the corner, skidding on a patch of ice and going into a sprawl on the icy grass. She began to giggle with the child, who clapped her hands and threw herself onto the ground and began to make a snow angel. Patria chuckled at the little girl's antics before rising and walking over to se if Enjolras was alright.

"Oh, monsieur! Are you alright?" Patria asked him in concern as another snowball went wizzing past her head and thudded on a tree trunk.

"My little sister has a good arm, doesn't she?" smirked Enjolras, sitting up with a wince.

"I'll agree with you," Patria turned her head and ducked another snowball. "You're asking for it, you little rascal!" she shouted before tearing off after little Alessandra and scooping up the little six year old child into her arms. "What shall I do with you?" Patria spied a mountain of snow and dumped little Alessandra on top of the snow pile. The child giggled as she slid down her makeshift slide.

"Oh joy, now she'll never want to leave!" groaned Enjolras standing next to Patria as it began to lightly snow again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Please be Mine**

**I do not own Les Misérables or any of the songs used for your enjoyment.**

**SUMMARY:  
Inspector Javert discovers an abandoned girl and takes her in as his own daughter. Seventeen years later, Patricia is a stunning young lady with a fiery personality to match. What happens one rainy day when she stumbles into the ABC Café, seeking a dry place to wait out the storm?**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many THANK YOUS to JetGirl1832 for inspiration for this chappie!**

Patria smiled as she spied Enjolras and Alessandra at the café. The doting brother had ordered his sister warm apple cider and was laughing as she told him a cute story about a princess and a pea.

"Trisha!" squealed Alessandra loudly, abandoning her empty cup for Patria's legs. The young woman giggled as she bent down to distangle the sweet child from her skirts. "Are you going skating?" asked the little girl upon seeing Patria's ice skates slung over her shoulder.

"Yes I am," answered the redhead with a smile. "Would you and your brother care to accompany me?"

Alessandra squealed loudly before grabbing her brother by the hand and towing him towards Patria.

"Slow down, Alessandra, we don't have our skates!" he cried as he almost fell flat onto his face.

"Then we can go home and get them!" declared the young child gleefully.

Enjolras tried to think of a reason not to, but decided to indulge his sister.

A few minutes later, the trio arrived at a neat flat, where Enjolras led Patria, who was carrying Alessandra (at the child's insistence), up to his home, which was located on the second floor.

"These apartments are for students only," explained Enjolras as he opened the door for Patria to enter first.

She entered a very cluttered front parlor, which was strewn with papers and book. She looked around curiously as Enjolras went into his sister's room to hunt down her ice skates. A few minutes later, he returned with both his sister's and his skates slung over his shoulders.

"Alright- now we can go!" he announced, ushering Patria and Alessandra out of his flat and onto the snow cover streets of Paris. The three walked side by side in comfortable silence until they reached the park, where there was a pond that was perfect for skating. Enjolras laced up his skates before going out onto the pond to test out how strong the ice was. While he was doing this, Patria helped Alessandra with her skates before lacing her skates up. Once Enjolras had given the nod, the two girls made their way onto the ice.

Alessandra happily skated in little circles while Patria got her footing. She went skating every year at Christmastime with her papa, so she was used to skating; however, she wanted to make sure that she didn't fall down in front of Enjolras.

Finally, Enjolras came up behind Patria and linked arms with her before skating with her around the pond. Alessandra giggled as she watched her older brother skating with a pretty girl.

Suddenly, Patria began to fall, taking Enjolras with her. The two landed in a jumbled heap in the snow, entwined with each other.

Enjolras looked down at Patria from where he was, on top of her. She began to giggle as she lightly pushed him off of her.

"Enjolras!" she giggled as he helped her up. She lost her footing once more and plowed into his chest, where he held her as she regained her balance back.

"Thank you," she gasped, not wanting to let go of Enjolras. He was warm for her sudden chill. It seemed as though Enjolras felt the same way, for he tilted her head up and kissed her forehead.


End file.
